“Oh, well, if you prefer, I can recognize handwriting,” said the imp proudly. “I’m quite advanced.” Vimes pulled out his notebook and held it up. “Like this?” he said. The imp squinted for a moment. “Yep,” it said. “That’s handwriting, sure enough. Curly bits, spiky bits, all joined together. Yep. Handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
